


What Happens When Dragoons Get Bored

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Series: Taming Dragons [12]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: Taming Dragons [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733218
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	What Happens When Dragoons Get Bored

It had been a scant week since Estinien had agreed to remain in Ishgard ere his shoulder healed, and Aymeric couldn’t deny that he loved having his husband constantly around. The only downside to the whole thing...was that his husband was constantly around. The first day after their fight he had taken the day off and spent it in bed with Estinien, the two of them simply savouring each other and patching bruised feelings - among other things. After that, Estinien - back in his armour and helm - had appointed himself Aymeric’s personal guard as the knight worked his way through the day’s appointments. At first, he had thought it quite sweet. Even a little romantic, which would be a lot romantic in Estinien terms. By the fifth meeting where the petitioner hadn’t been able to keep their gaze on him instead of the menacing shadow behind him...it was seeming less sweet. Especially since he picked up on subtleties that a layman wouldn’t; namely that his husband was deriving no small amount of enjoyment at being as intimidating as possible just to see them sweat.

It would have been incredibly amusing if it didn’t make his job more difficult. Mostly because so much of it involved utilizing his wits and his charm and his gift for wordplay. Things that Estinien found tedious and without point when dealing with anyone that he deemed unimportant. And that was a very long list that comprised nearly the entirety of Ishgard. And it often seemed that the longer he himself put up with flattery and pointless frivolities of speech, the more he could see Estinien start to seethe. His own fault, for insisting on being there. But he hadn’t blamed the dragoon for his frustrations at all. At least, not after the third baron made yet another needling inquiry as to the identity of his ‘mystery wife’ with a gesture towards Aymeric’s ring. His own carefully worded turning of the conversation to another topic was cut off as a gauntleted hand came down on the desk and his husband leaned over to glower right in the man’s face with a hissed growl. 

“His _husband_ thinks it’s none of your twelves-damned business and that you should stick to the reason you bothered to darken his doorstep today.”

And as much as he should have chided Estinien, he had merely sighed and rested one hand over those ironclad fingers with a soft chuckle. “Apologies, but we prefer to keep business and private matters separate, my lord. You understand, I’m sure.”

Whether the man did or whether he was just terrified of the dragoon, he swallowed hard as he nodded and his shaking voice ruminated back to the matters at hand. Aymeric had smothered his own laughter, but he had caught the faint smirk from Estinien and his husband’s mood seemed to be better the rest of the day.

Day three started much the same way, with Estinien his constant shadow. Only this time the dragoon decided that his husband made a good target for him to practice his Draconic on. And it soon became obvious that he had worked primarily on honing it into a tight band of communication that nobody save his husband would hear. Which was interesting and he was quite proud of Estinien. Until his husband began to use that new skill to alternately mock the majority of petitioners who came to his office...and fill his mind with a running commentary of things he intended to do to his husband once work was finished for the day.

Day four began later than its predecessor, owing in no small part to Estinien having kept him up for the majority of the night making good on all the filthy promises and suggestions he had poured into Aymeric’s mind. And surprisingly enough… Estinien behaved himself through all of Aymeric’s appointments, though he vanished halfway through the afternoon. His curiosity as to what his husband was up to now were answered when he returned home to find a steaming meal and Estinien in nothing but a frilly apron. He was laughing almost too hard to eat as his husband rolled his eyes and reminded him that _he_ was the one who had once made a jest about just such an occasion. Laughter led to other things and the new knowledge that the table was quite large enough to be used for multiple purposes at once. And considering that he knew the scope of Estinien’s cooking only extended to such preparation methods as ‘stab it and put it over a fire’, he was not at all surprised to find out that Lucia had been weedeled into doing the cooking.

Day five had seen Estinien back to his prior antics and Aymeric was torn between amusing himself and tearing his hair out. Especially when his husband decided that mocking the other nobles was far less interesting than dropping mental suggestions that made his husband blush. Or almost spill his inkwell. And more than once he had been forced to shift himself in his seat with a glare at his husband as the dragoon just returned his glare with a satisfied smirk of his own. Only to stay silent for the next meeting and then have Aymeric nearly falling out of his chair as he yanked it back from the desk and folded himself underneath it. The astounded knight had no time to protest before his next appointment showed up as his husband purred that he would “fix it for you, my lord”. And fix it he had, thoroughly enough that Aymeric was certain that at least one of the next three appointments suspected something was wrong with the Lord Commander.

He got his revenge for that after Estinien wormed his way out from under the desk, throwing the lock on his office door and grabbing a fistful of white hair before he bent his husband over the desk. And if his next appointment commented on the muffled cries or the row of new gouges in the edge of the desk, well...he didn’t really care that much. He’d enjoyed taking his husband apart too much to give any thought as to anyone else’s opinion and he didn’t have to ask if Estinien had enjoyed himself. After that, the smug grin was his for the rest of the day. 

Day six had seen the dragoon getting even more restless, pacing about the office and rearranging everything until Aymeric almost wanted to nail his feet to the floor. And today was shaping up to be no different as he closed his eyes and let out a slow breath before there was an unexpected knock at the door. Expecting Lucia on the other side, he called out for them to enter and was pleasantly surprised to find Francel waiting with a smile on his face. 

“My lord de Haillenarte, what a surprise. And a pleasure.” He ushered the smiling blonde into his office, gesturing for him to take a seat in one of the vacant chairs. Estinien had claimed the one closest to Aymeric’s desk, long legs sprawled over it as he sat in what anyone other than Aymeric would have assumed was a relaxed posture. Francel greeted them both warmly, flashing a smile at Estinien. “And ser Estinien, what a pleasure to see you as well. I had heard rumor that you were returned to Ishgard for a time, it gladdens me to see you. Have your travels been well? Ser Aymeric always talks about the things you see.”

As always, Estinien was put somewhat off his guard by Francel’s easy warmth and he stumbled a little bit before managing a rather gruff agreement. Aymeric reached for his husband’s hand to give it a squeeze as Francel’s expression warmed further. “Also, I haven’t had the opportunity to congratulate you both. Only ser Aymeric. So I’ll say again that I’m happy for the both of you” It felt good to have that sort of easy acceptance and it was a simple matter to allow himself to get lost in idle conversation before Francel steered their conversation back towards his true intention; updating Aymeric on the state of things in the Firmament. With the New Nest finished and the help the Warriour of Light had given in aiding with efforts to move people into the houses, they were ready for further steps in enlarging the area and creating even more living space. Eventually, according to Francel, they hoped to be able to house all those who had been left homeless over the course of the war. Which gave Aymeric an idea. Glancing at his husband momentarily, he cleared his throat before speaking up.

“Have you need of more workers, my lord? Perhaps something that could use a particularly discerning touch?”

His husband caught on first and shot him a look that was equal parts suspicion and ire. “Are you volunteering me for manual labour, Aymeric?” Francel’s eyes lit up as he too made the connection and he nodded enthusiastically. “Certainly, there is plenty that you could do to help in the Firmament, ser Estinien. If you would wish to, of course.”

“It is merely a suggestion, Estinien.” He said softly, not wanting it to seem as though he were trying to force his husband into anything. “I only fear that watching my endless meetings day after day will grow quite tedious for you. You are not used to idleness.” Left unspoken but plain in his eyes was what they both understood; that the dragoon was still struggling to find his place in this new world without war and bloodshed. To find a place in Ishgard itself where he belonged again. The seconds ticked by as Aymeric held his breath and waited until Estinien gave a stiff nod of agreement. “Indeed, I will admit that watching you dance around the pomp and circumstance of many of the fools who traipse through your door has begun to grate on me. And what you say is true… I am a man ill suited to idleness by nature.”

The answer seemed to delight Francel, who gave an approving nod before he spoke up. “Wonderful, ser Estinien. Your aid will be most appreciated, and not just by me. You are a hero of Ishgard and I have no doubt it will be a great joy for all of those working on the Firmament to have you aiding us.” The styling of himself as a hero of Ishgard seemed to fluster Estinien and he cleared his throat awkwardly before he stood and nodded to them both. “Very well, I will change from my armour and await you in the Firmament.” Aymeric caught his arm and tugged him down for a quick kiss with a smile before watching the dragoon leave and thanking Francel. Who gave a snort of laughter and a wink. “I’ll keep him busy, ser Aymeric, so he isn’t stalking around your office for awhile. Rumor has it that a number of the nobles are nigh terrified of him.”

He had groaned and raked a hand through his hair before laughing and waving Francel out of the door. Unsure how long this idea would last, it had been a pleasant surprise when Estinien seemed to take to the work with complete focus. Spending long days in the Firmament on whatever project Francel was putting him up to and coming home gritty and tired at night. And...content, in a way that Aymeric hadn’t seen him in quite awhile, which warmed his heart and did much to quell lingering worries that his husband would never truly be at home in Ishgard again.

The chirurgeons had insisted that it would be almost two moons before Estinien’s shoulder would be mended and thought it had seemed at first quite a long time...it passed all too quickly for Aymeric. His days of paperwork, scattered at first with regular visits from Estinien, until his husband immersed himself in some complex project in the Firmament and was often gone in the morning before Aymeric even woke and returned long after sundown. It grated against his curiosity and more than once he had taken a short visit to the Firmament to try and see just what it was that had his husband so focused...only to find that while nearly everyone there knew Estinien and could expound at length on how he had helped them….none of them actually knew what he was currently working on. He’d spent an entire afternoon going from person to person, following snippets of ‘I think I saw him working with the ironsmiths three roads up’ and the like before he gave up and headed back to his office in defeat. Estinien obviously didn’t want Aymeric to know what he was working on for some reason and he would simply have to wait until his secretive husband decided to share with him.

With the latest check-up from the chirurgeons giving the dragoon the all clear within a week, Aymeric offhandedly wondered if Estinien would actually leave when the time came. Or if his mystery project in the Firmament would keep him in Ishgard for even longer. His inner query was finally answered that same night when he was gently shaken awake at his desk. “My own, you are drooling on your paperwork. Dreaming of me, perchance?” Estinien’s voice was warm and teasing as he kneaded fingertips against the tense muscles in Aymeric’s shoulders and he moaned as the tension began to ease. “Dreaming of those hands, a little lower if you please.” Estinien chuckled and slid his fingertips down to knead between Aymeric’s shoulder blades with a sigh. “If you didn’t spend all day with those heavy pauldrons on your shoulders, bent over stacks of paperwork, perhaps they would be less tense. Come, I wish to show you something.”

Aymeric’s interest was immediately piqued at the tone of anticipation and almost giddy excitement in Estinien’s voice and he pushed his chair back to stand up as he raised an eyebrow at his husband. “Would this perchance have to do with your secret mystery project in the Firmament?”

“It may.” Was the vague answer, though the small smirk all but assured that was exactly what this was in regards to. “It is a surprise. For you.” Linking his fingers through Aymeric’s in a gesture that was uncharacteristically tactile, the dragoon tugged his husband out of the door and led him out into the chill evening air of Ishgard’s streets. Though he was surprised at the hand holding, he didn’t mind it in the slightest. Estinien adored being touched. It was such a novel experience for him, having spent so many years without anything much of casual gentle contact that now he soaked it up like a flower desperate for sun. Curling up to read with his head in Aymeric’s lap as gentle fingers combed through his hair, falling asleep to his husband tracing circles against his back, letting the shorter man circle every scale that peppered his shoulders and ran up the sides of his neck. But in spite of it, his habit was distance. Especially in public, where he was far less comfortable and far more conscious of eyes on him. Perhaps working in the Firmament had helped with that too.

So caught up in his musings was he, that Aymeric found himself surprised when Estinien halted and he realized they had reached the Firmament already. They were in the New Nest, towards the outskirts of one of the smaller subdivisions, standing in front of one of the many houses that had been built. Only this one was a bit different from the rest. A darker hue of stone, subtle detailing in the metalwork edging doors and glazed windows. It was larger, and the door was adorned with what looked like an etched dragon in flight. “It’s beautiful, Estinien, but…” His question trailed off as the taller man dangled an iron key in front of him. The handle was the Borel crest, and he glanced from the key to Estinien as blue eyes widened. “You.... built us a house? Estinien, I… I know not what to say.”

“You need not say anything. Ishgard is my home. Besides....” He chewed his lip, cheeks reddening slightly. “I do not dislike our quarters in your family’s manor but I wished us to have a home of our own… a place that is neither yours nor mine, but… _ours_. A...proper beginning to our life together.”

Any further explanation was unnecessary, as Aymeric pulled him in for a deep kiss. “This is more than I could have imagined, beloved. _You_ are more than I could have ever dreamed of.” Holding up the key, he smiled as he dangled it with a wink. “Now, give me a proper tour?”


End file.
